


Twelve O'Clock in Soho

by ShortInsomniac98



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry Neil Gaiman, Implied Ineffable Husbands, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Shadley (Good Omens), based on a hozier song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 14:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19111567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShortInsomniac98/pseuds/ShortInsomniac98
Summary: Set on the night Crowley met Sergeant (then Lance Corporal) Shadwell. After Aziraphale leaves, Crowley is beating himself up for wanting him, when Shadwell approaches the car and asks Crowley if he'd like to get a drink. Back at Crowley's flat, they share a few drinks, leading to something else. Includes a brief flashback to Ancient Rome, where Crowley and Aziraphale had their first sexual encounter. Basically just Crowley wanting Aziraphale but having Shadwell instead. Chapter 2 contains an alternate ending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Soho, London, 1967**

After Aziraphale was out of sight, Crowley opened the glovebox and pulled out a large plastic Ziploc bag, into which he safely placed the thermos Aziraphale had given him, and he placed it back in the glovebox and closed the door.  His mind was racing.  Aziraphale had just done something so kind, so helpful, something that could possibly save his life one day, not end it as the angel had feared.  He wanted to thank him.  He wanted to buy him dinner, or at the very least drive him back to his bookshop.

Part of him, a part which sometimes he wished didn’t hold so much influence, wanted to thank him in a different way.  He realized that maybe that’s what Aziraphale had thought he meant when he offered his thanks.  Really it had been an afterthought in his own mind, something that didn’t even occur to him as something he wanted until after the angel had gotten out of the car.  He closed his eyes tight and let out an embarrassed groan.

“ _Stupid_ ,” he muttered, hitting the steering wheel.  “ _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.”

His head fell heavily on the steering wheel, and just as he reached the peak of his self-pity, there was a knocking at the window.

“Az—” he started to say, but when he looked up, he saw that it wasn’t the angel at his window, but Lance Corporal Shadwell.  He leaned over to roll the window down.  “Yes, Lance Corporal?”

“I was,” Shadwell said with a slight chuckle, “you see, I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink, Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley gave him a half-smile.  “Sure.  Where?”

“Wherever,” said Shadwell, shrugging.  “Back there,” he pointed to where they had just left, “or over there,” and at a similar establishment across the street, “but probably not there, I wouldn’t think.”

Crowley followed his pointing finger to a strip club on the corner with neon silhouettes of naked women glowing brightly in the almost blacked-out windows.

“No?” said Crowley, laughing.  “That’s a real classy place.  I’ve been a few times myself.”

“You?” asked Shadwell skeptically.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded.  “You haven’t?”

“Oh, no,” Shadwell said, shaking his head.  “Not there.”

“Okay,” Crowley said, nodding a bit slower.  “We could avoid it all and….No.  Never mind.  It’s a bad idea.”

“What?”

“I was going to say we could go back to my place,” said Crowley, “if you want, that is.”

Shadwell’s eyes widened and seemed to sparkle in the neon glow.  He smiled, and after a moment nodded.  “Alright, then,” he said.  “Your place it is.”

“Ha,” Crowley laughed under his breath, looking the man over.  He was cute, and he seemed nice enough.  A little weird admittedly, but then, Crowley was used to weird.  “Get in,” he said.

* * *

 

Crowley wasn’t sure who kissed whom first.  He didn’t remember how he got in Shadwell’s lap, either.  They had gotten through a glass and a half of scotch and then there he was, his coat lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, his hands buried in this man’s hair.  Shadwell’s arms were around him, his hands pressed to his back, holding him close as they kissed.  Crowley rocked his hips gently, earning a soft moan which vibrated from Shadwell’s mouth to his own.  He felt Shadwell starting to untuck his shirt and inch it up a bit, and he pulled away.

“Erm,” Crowley hesitated, breathing hard.

“Is something wrong?” asked Shadwell, his brow furrowed.  He slid his hand up Crowley’s chest to rest on his shoulder.

Crowley smiled.  “No,” he chuckled.  “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the bedroom, actually.”

“Okay,” Shadwell said, returning his smile.

“Yeah?” Crowley asked.  He rolled his hips one more time.

“Yes,” said Shadwell, his eyes closing briefly.  “ _Please_.”

“Alright.”  He got up and extended his hand to the man sitting on the sofa.  “Follow me then.”

Walking backward most of the way, smiling giddily as he thought how he’d kick himself for this later, Crowley led Shadwell down the hall to his bedroom at the end, holding his hand in his own.  It felt odd, wanting one person but holding the hand of another, leading someone back to the bed he’d like to share with someone else.  He tried not to think about that.  Now he was to the point where any thrill would do, any _release_ from this feeling would do, even if in the morning he’d regret it.

They reached the door sooner than he expected.  He crashed into it, and Shadwell pressed into him, kissing his lips again with a sort of gentle hunger.  His lips traveled back to the sensitive spot Crowley’s ear and down to the side of his neck, and his hands started to unfasten his belt.

Crowley sighed, winding his fingers into the hair at the back of Shadwell’s head.  “Mr. Shadwell,” he said, giggling quietly, “can you wait just _one_ moment until we get to the bed?”

“Sorry,” he breathed, taking a step back so Crowley could get the door open.  “Can’t help myself.”

“Oh, don’t apologize,” said Crowley, looking at his lips.  “You’ve got no reason to do that.  _Yet_.”

He turned quickly and opened the door and let Shadwell in, and he closed it behind them before taking him again by the hand and leading him over to the bed.  Crowley’s heart, which he usually had perfect control over, was beating hard and fast.  He let out a heavy breath, trying to slow it down, but only found it beating faster as Shadwell moved closer.

“I want to make love to you,” Shadwell murmured, touching Crowley’s cheek.

“Yes,” said Crowley softly, kicking his shoes off before getting into the bed on his knees and pulling Shadwell by the hand over to the edge.  “Please.”  He kissed him again, a bit more chastely this time.  “But…we should go slow, right?  Work up to that.”

“Of course,” he smiled.

He let his lips brush over Crowley’s before kissing him tenderly, gradually increasing in intensity.  He felt the tip of Crowley’s tongue on his lips, and he parted his own, letting him deepen the kiss.  Shadwell’s hands slid into Crowley’s hair and he pressed closer to him.  Crowley’s arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his body even closer until Shadwell had to get in the bed with him.

Shadwell broke away briefly to look at him.  “You know, I’ve never done this before,” he said with a quiet sort of laugh.

“Done what?” Crowley asked, biting his lip.

“Been with a man,”

 _And even after it’s over, you still won’t have been_ , Crowley found himself thinking.

“That’s okay,” he said instead.  “It’s not that different.  Trust me.”

Shadwell raised an eyebrow.  “No?”

“Well, it’s a little bit different, but the result is about the same,” Crowley said with a smile, and he kissed his neck tenderly as he pushed his jacket off onto the mattress behind him.

Hurriedly, he tugged Shadwell’s jumper over his head and tossed it to the floor, and started to fumble with the buttons of his shirt.  His hands were shaking, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.  He shouldn’t have been nervous.  This was hardly the first time he had had a human in his bed, male or female.  In the end, Shadwell, smiling comfortingly, helped him finish undoing the buttons and shrugged the shirt off.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Mr. Crowley?” he asked sweetly.

“Yes,” Crowley said, looking him over slowly.  “I’m just…a little excited is all.”

He kissed him again and after a moment, lay back, bringing Shadwell down on top of him.  Slipping one of his legs between Shadwell’s, he pushed his hips upward.  His hands slid over his chest, his arms, his neck, before slipping once more into Shadwell’s hair, which he pulled gently.  Shadwell gasped, and began to move with him.  He hooked his hand behind the knee of Crowley’s outside leg and pulled it up, and he slid his hand up his thigh to rest on his ass.

Crowley moaned, and for a moment he found himself thinking back to Aziraphale and that night in Rome so many years ago.  Hotter than this one, he remembered, but no less pleasant.

They’d had oysters, he thought, and he laughed quietly into the kiss.

“What is it?” Shadwell asked, looking down at him.

“Nothing,” Crowley smiled, touching his face.

“Hm,” this man intoned, and he reached for Crowley’s glasses.

Crowley grabbed his wrist, stopping him.  “Wait.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I think I’d rather like to leave them on, if you don’t mind,” he said.

“I just wanted to see your eyes,” Shadwell said.

“I know,” said Crowley.  _Aziraphale had, too_.  “But, I, er, my eyes…the light hurts them.  Birth defect inherited from my father.  I’m sorry.  I have to leave them on.”

“Oh, okay.  That’s no problem then,” he said softly, taking his hand away again.

He placed his hand instead on Crowley’s hip, and as they fell back into their gentle rhythm of kisses and bodies moving in time, he slid it upward, inching the demon’s jumper up.  Crowley gasped at the feeling of Shadwell’s hand on his belly, and his eyes, well hidden behind his glasses, squeezed tightly shut.  The hand went higher, and its thumb brushed over his left nipple, sending a flash of pleasure straight through his whole body.

“ _Mm_ ,” he moaned, breaking the kiss to sit up abruptly, taking Shadwell by surprise.  He tugged his jumper over his head and tossed it to the foot of the bed.  Then he pushed Shadwell into a seated position and got into his lap again.  “Sorry,” he giggled, tracing his fingertips over Shadwell’s collarbone and down over his chest.  “Is this okay?”

Shadwell ran his hands up Crowley’s thighs to his hips.  “Yes,” he said.  “Just fine.  For now.”

Crowley smiled.  “Good.”

* * *

 

_Rome had been the first and last time Aziraphale had touched him like this.  Drunk on wine and stupidly giddy from so many oysters, they had retired back to Aziraphale’s current hideout, a small library he ran on the outskirts of town, well hidden from most scholars and philosophers and holy men, just how Aziraphale liked it._

_Making love hadn’t been Crowley’s first intention in following him home, not that he hadn’t at least considered it.  And it wasn’t like that was what actually happened anyway, Aziraphale was quick to point out when he asked him about it the next morning.  Making love was a completely different activity than what they did._

_Crowley had just thought they were going to drink a little more, catch up.  But Aziraphale had kissed him first, and he wasn’t thinking clearly enough to remind him his side might not like it.  So he kissed him back, and he let Aziraphale lead him to the back room.  They’d both been guilty, certainly, but that’s not how Crowley chose to think about it.  It was a beautiful thing, nothing to be ashamed of, though that’s how Aziraphale treated it, making him vow never to even think of that night again._

_And he held true to that vow, until tonight._

* * *

 

Shadwell’s tongue swept over his nipple and he let out a soft whimper.  “ _Fuck_.”

Crowley placed a hand on the back of Shadwell’s head and tilted his own forward to bury his face in his hair.  Shadwell kissed a little lower now, and he flipped them so Crowley was on his back and he was on top of him.  His lips traveled lower, over Crowley’s belly, down to the waistband of his trousers.  Crowley’s eyes flashed open at the sudden realization where this was going, and he looked down at Shadwell, who was busy unzipping his trousers.  In a moment, his trousers were being tugged down and off and were then tossed onto the floor with their other clothes.  Then there was Shadwell’s mouth on him.  He shivered and his head fell back again.

“Oh, wow,” he sighed.

Admittedly, Shadwell’s technique wasn’t very good, but it was good enough, Crowley decided.  He was already so close to the edge.  Even rough, unrefined stimulation was still stimulation.  He grasped a handful of the sheets and kept his mind trained on _not moving his hips_.

“Lance Corporal Shadwell,” he said weakly after a couple of minutes, thinking he better stop him before anything unexpected happened, “if you would… _oh, fuck_ …could you please come back up here.”

While Shadwell was coming up to lie beside him again, he rolled over to the edge of the bed to fumble in one of his dresser drawers.

“What are you doing?” Shadwell asked, watching him, a confused look on his face as he removed his own trousers.

“Well, you’re going to want this,” he said, producing a small plastic bottle.  “Or rather, I’m going to want it.  Probably both of us, honestly.”

“Lubricant?” Shadwell asked.

“Yes,” Crowley responded.

“For what?”

“Oh, I hope you’re joking,” Crowley muttered, kissing him hungrily before he could respond, and he took this as his opportunity to put some in his hand and slowly stroke the young Lance Corporal’s hardened member, coating it in the liquid.

Shadwell groaned in pleasure, and he placed a hand on the back of Crowley’s neck as he kissed him back.  Quickly closing the bottle and dropping it back into the open drawer, Crowley laid back again, bringing Shadwell with him.

“This will probably be somewhat familiar to you,” Crowley murmured.

He hissed quietly feeling Shadwell enter him, and he dug his fingernails into his shoulders.  Soon enough, he got accustomed to the feeling, and he let out a soft moan.  Shadwell, breathing fast and hard, kissed his neck, and Crowley held him close.

“Mr. Crowley,” he said under his breath.

“ _Anthony_ ,” said Crowley.

“ _Anthony_ ,” Shadwell repeated with a slight chuckle.  “Gotta get used to that now.”

 _Not the first to say that_ , Crowley thought of saying, but stopped himself.  He took Shadwell’s hand off his waist and slipped it between their bodies, and placed it on his cock.

“ _Hmm_ ,” Shadwell hummed, kissing his neck again, his hand moving in time now with his hips.

“ _Oh, fuck_ ,” Crowley moaned, his head digging back into the pillow and his eyes falling almost shut, glowing faintly behind his sunglasses but luckily unseen by the Lance Corporal.  “ _Hmm…yes_.  Fuck.”

Shadwell chuckled, kissing Crowley’s throat as he pressed on.  “Almost there?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Crowley said breathlessly.  He grunted softly, his hips rose to meet Shadwell’s, and he fell over the edge.  “Fuck…oh, _God_.”  He closed his eyes then, his body relaxing.

“ _Ngk_ ,” Shadwell grunted, his hips halting, and he came hard.

“Oh… _Aziraphale_ ,” Crowley whispered, barely audible, but not unheard.

“What was that?” Shadwell asked, looking down at him.

“Oh, shit,” Crowley said, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

“Who’s Aziraphale?”

Crowley shook his head frantically.  “I…”

“Your wife?  Your boyfriend?”

“He’s…oh, no, I’m sorry, Mr. Shadwell,” said Crowley; he put his glasses back on before opening his eyes.  “Really, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have—”

“No.  Don’t apologize,” said Shadwell, rolling off of him and sitting up.  He didn’t look angry, just shocked, and a bit hurt.  “I…I think I should just go now.”

“Probably best,” Crowley agreed, pulling the duvet up modestly.  “I’m sorry.”

Shadwell stepped back into his jeans quickly and threw his jumper over his head, and he gathered the rest of his clothes in his hands.  “I’ll see you around, Mr. Crowley.  No hard feelings.  Thanks for the drink, and…well.  Good night.”

“Right,” Crowley nodded, watching him leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the next chapter for an alternate ending!


	2. ALTERNATE ENDING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lighter alternative ending to Crowley and Lance Corporal Shadwell's evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked recently on Tumblr to write an alternate ending to this story, and I decided to add it here as well. This was actually the original ending, the one I had written before I decided to have Crowley say Aziraphale's name and Shadwell leave out of embarrassment.

He hissed quietly feeling Shadwell enter him, and he dug his fingernails into his shoulders.  Soon enough, he got accustomed to the feeling, and he let out a soft moan. Shadwell, breathing fast and hard, kissed his neck, and Crowley held him close.

“Mr. Crowley,” he said under his breath.

“ _Anthony_ ,” said Crowley.

“ _Anthony_ ,” Shadwell repeated with a slight chuckle.  “Gotta get used to that now.”

_Not the first to say that_ , Crowley thought of saying, but stopped himself. He took Shadwell’s hand off his waist and slipped it between their bodies, and placed it on his cock.

“ _Hmm_ ,” Shadwell hummed, kissing his neck again, his hand moving in time now with his hips.

“ _Oh, fuck,_ ” Crowley moaned, his head digging back into the pillow and his eyes falling almost shut, glowing faintly behind his sunglasses but luckily unseen by the Lance Corporal.  “ _Hmm…yes._  Fuck.”

Shadwell chuckled, kissing Crowley’s throat as he pressed on.  “Almost there?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Crowley said breathlessly. He grunted softly, his hips rose to meet Shadwell’s, and he fell over the edge. “Fuck…oh,  _God_.” He closed his eyes then, his body relaxing.

“ _Ngk_ ,” Shadwell grunted, his hips halting, and he came hard.

Below him, Crowley let out a final, soft, whimper-like moan as a final wave of pleasure rolled over him. He kissed Shadwell’s shoulder gently and stroked his arm, still holding him close.

“Hm,” he intoned, opening his eyes and looking up at him.  “That was really nice.”

“It was,” Shadwell said with a soft laugh, looking down between them and pulling a face at the sight. “What was that you said about it not being that different?”

“Twice the mess,” Crowley said, giggling as Shadwell kissed him sweetly. “Didn’t I mention?”

“No, I think you left that bit out,” he replied, laughing again.

Crowley scanned Shadwell’s face, smiling to himself. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Well,” said Shadwell, rolling off him and reaching for his trousers, from which he retrieved a handkerchief, “at least now I know what to expect next time.”

“Oh, I get a ‘next time,’ do I?“ asked Crowley with a playful sort of grin.

“Right after we get this mess cleaned up,” Shadwell said. then added, “If you’d like.”

Crowley’s eyes lit up and he smiled, sitting up to help him. “Oh, absolutely.”


End file.
